Unexpected Date
by FenixPhoenix
Summary: Tifa realizes that the day that started so horribly, ended up becoming the best day of her life when she gives Vincent a tour to remember. An alternate date in Gold Saucer. ::Tifa x Vincent:: One-Shot. R&R!


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of its characters. I am just burrowing them. Also, part of the dialogue is taken from the game (quoted).

**Summary**: "Who could have thought the day that started so horribly could end up to be the best day of her life," Tifa wondered as she remembered Vincent's touch. A date in Gold Saucer.

**Universe: **Final Fantasy VII. In-game, before finding out Caith Suit is a spy during the Gold Saucer event.

**Status: **Complete. Published 01-04-08 - Finished 01-04-08.

**Story's ****Key:** "Talking" – _Thinking _– 'Emphasis'

**Author's notes: **Okay, so I had half of this sitting in my computer for over a year and decided, when I found it (since I didn't remember at the time I had been writing this) to finish what I had started (what better way to start the new year, right?).

Anyhow, love this pair and, since I haven't found the time to continue 'Ashes of Memories' (VinxTif) fic, I decided I might as well make a one-shot. Hopefully, you all will like this! ~ Please don't forget to '**review'** and Happy 2008!

**Word Count: **9,235.

**Last edited:** 08th of June 2009.

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"_True love cannot be found were it truly does not exist. Nor can it be hidden where it truly does.__"_

_-Anonymous-_

"**Unexpected Date****"**

By: FenixPhoenix

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**One-Shot**

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The lady of Gold Saucer informed them the Tram was out of order. Cloud could not believe their luck as they were left with no other choice than to wait patiently for the time being until the proper repairs were made. Thankfully, it seemed Cait Sith had friends working on the hotel that stood in the middle of 'Ghost Square' and thus, he had gotten them, each, a free room for at least that night.

After all the members of the mismatched group had taken their belongings to their respective rooms, it was decided to gather around in the lobby to discuss their next move.

"We don't usually get the chance to be together like this, huh?" came the robotic voice of the puppet once they had all settled down, "Cloud, how 'bout it? Can you tell us what's happened so far? I don't really know what's goin' on because I wasn't here at the beginning."

Cloud turned to Cait Sith questioningly. _What does he want to know exactly?_

"Yeah! I'm all for it!" agreed Cid with a hoarse voice, as he tried to maintain himself alert while finding the most comfortable position in his red, extremely puffy chair.

"I been here since the beginnin', an' I still don't know what the hell's goin' on either," piped in Barret shaking his head, as if he could not believe his own words. "Cloud, the hell's goin' on? C'mon, tell us!"

Tifa turned towards the leader of their group with worry hidden underneath a perfect mask of curiousness. She had become a 'master of disguise', sort to speak, because as she looked around the room, she realized no one knew what she was truly feeling at the moment.

Yet, as she continued her study and found red mako eyes -which quickly locked with her darker ones- she felt as though her secret was no longer only hers. Startled by the thought, Tifa quickly diverted her gaze.

_Could the enigmatic Vincent see past my façade_? The martial artists wondered.

"I'm tired…" Tifa heard Cloud's voice, low and evasive as he tried to find a way out of the precarious situation.

"All we have left to do now is f%#*in' sleep!" exclaimed Cid, trapping the blonde swordsman with his words and pushing him to talk about a subject, which Tifa knew, was confusing even for Cloud… or rather, 'especially' for Cloud.

"S&it, you're still young!" continued the pilot, "What're you f%&*in' complaining about?"

Cloud sighed audibly and, not having any other alternative, began to explain what he had understood about Sephiroth's quest to the Promise Land. Aerith had later helped him when he reached the subject of the 'Centra' people, for, being one of them, there could be no better source. Finally, the subject moved to one that had been worrying Nanaki lately, the 'black caped' people.

"I heard from Dio that a man in a Black Cape was lookin' for the Black Materia," announced Cait Sith in a grave tone, initiating the mentioned theme.

Tifa frowned at this, "I don't even know what the Black Cape is..." she paused and shook her head before continuing, "How many men with Black Capes and number tattoos are there?"

It was something that had been bothering her ever since they had encountered the first eldritch being.

"...you know, of course..." Red XIII's ears picked up, as if something had finally gained his complete attention, before his eyes clouded with a sadden mist. "My tattoo is number 13." He stated this last with a doubtful voice.

"How did you get that tattoo?" asked Cait Sith, while inspecting the black mark on the tiger's reddish-orange fur.

"...Hojo put it on me," the feline said softly. Tifa saw, through the corner of her eyes, Vincent's relaxed form tensing and his brow furrowing for a second when the Doctor's name was mentioned. "Everything else is just war scars, but the number was done by Hojo," the tiger finished, training his eyes on the carpeted floor.

Vincent's hands clasped tightly around his forearms –hands folded across his chest as though to protect the heart within. His face, which had expressed his discomfort as the tiger spoke, recovered his impassive mask.

To Tifa, however, the ex-Turk seemed to be engaging his emotions in an internal battle, attempting to control his rightful rage. After all, it had been that same man, Hojo, who had destroyed everything and 'everyone' Vincent Valentine had ever loved…

As if he had sensed her eyes upon him, his blood gaze locked with hers again, and Tifa found herself blushing and becoming nervous under his scrupulous examination. She swiftly diverted her gaze, something she was learning to do expertly.

_Was I too obvious?_

Vincent made her feel -most of the times- as if he could read her mind, which was not a good thing considering she had quite a number of secrets of her own.

"So there are at least 13!" she asked, trying to veer the attention away from her rude staring, as well as to maintain herself occupied in other things than Vincent's mysterious person.

Aerith, after a slight pause, proposed to look for Sephiroth. Barret immediately agreed, having already given up on the fact that he could understand what everyone were babbling about.

Then, for some unknown reason, Aerith suddenly excused herself and went to her room saying something about going to bed. Everyone seemed to be as caught off guard by the unexpected behavior as Tifa, but they all decided to ignore it for the time being. They were, after all, quite tired.

Before each could depart to their own room, nonetheless, Red XIII spoke, "I'm number 13," he turned to look at Cloud, "Am I going to go mad too?"

Tifa felt pity -mingling with a sisterly love towards the tiger- invading her heart. Thus, she tried to comfort him as best she could, "I don't know what Hojo did to you, but you've been all right so far, right?" she reminded him while sitting beside him on the floor.

"But..." he began but the barmaid's voice interrupted him harshly before he could say anything else.

"Be strong," she ordered more than advised.

"But, I..." Red insisted; his eyes trained on the floor, unable to look at any of the people around him.

"Stop it, Red XIII!" Tifa snapped, not even sure of why she felt so angry, "Be strong!"

"Tifa?" Cloud's surprised voice, for some reason, angered her even more.

"You're not the only one who's worried!" she excused, standing up and hurriedly leaving the silent room.

**-o0o-**

As she headed to her room, Tifa Lockhart planned on taking a hot bath to relax her tensed muscles and just plain chill out. This was, after all, the perfect time for indulging is petty pleasures, not to mention it could also be her last opportunity to do so.

Here and now, the atmosphere surrounding her was peaceful and she should be content for that. Yet, if that was true, then why was she so afraid? Did she dread, perhaps, the possibility that Cloud may find the truth about the day Nibelham had burned? Or had the way Aerith and Cloud gazed at each other during the conversation hurt her more than she was willing to admit?

It did not matter. It was all in her imagination and nowhere else, she was sure of it. She would ask Cloud out tonight, and maybe then she would be able to tell him how she felt about him! But… what were, exactly, her feelings for him? _Love…? Friendship…? None... both…?_

"Holy," she breathed as she opened the door that led to her room, "my head hurts."

Not even sparing a glance around, the barmaid made a bee line for the bathroom. Idly, she turned on the hot water, stripped off her clothes and stood below the stream to let the liquid wipe away everything -from the sweat of her body, to the doubts and fears biting at her mind and heart, until she felt completely free and at peace.

**-o0o-**

Tifa Lockhart combed her hair patiently as she felt her old cheery self resurging. What had happen to her, she wondered now that she was calmed. Perhaps the strain of having to face Sephiroth again had finally sunken in when she had knelt before the tiger?

"Okay, I am ready," she said cheerfully to the image looking back at her through the mirror. She nodded in approval once she had tied the ribbon around the lower part of her hair; dolphin style.

That done she stood up and walked out the room and down the corridor to where, she was sure, Cloud's room was. As she turned around a corner, however, she froze on her tracks and peered out carefully when the voice of Aerith reached her.

"What's wrong?" asked Cloud, clearly surprised to find a grinning Aerith outside of his room at such a late hour.

"You want to go on a date?" she asked straightforward, leaning towards him 'innocently' and making a noticeable blush spread on his cheeks.

"What?" Cloud, from Tifa's perspective, didn't seem able to believe neither his ears nor her words, for that matter.

"A DA-TE! Or haven't you ever gone on one?" asked Aerith in mock surprise.

Cloud -crossing his arms in his smug SOLDIER style- seemed to think about it. Tifa closed her eyes, unable to watch any longer. Then, she heard the words that broke her heart.

"Well, not a real one…" he said.

"Not a real one?" Tifa muttered under her breath. Then what would you call the day he had promised her he would always be there to protect her? _What was that, then? A 'hanging out'!_

She heard Aerith laughing as she pushed Cloud out of the room and down the corridor. Tifa, for her part, stayed hidden for a couple of minutes before she sighed and walked down the corridor in utter and terrible_ '_defeat'.

Tifa Lockhart thought about returning to her room, but she was not sleepy, least now that she had witnessed this. She needed to do something to maintain her mind occupied in order to be 'at peace'. In order to stop thinking about what Cloud would say to Aerith or, worst yet, what 'she' would say to him. Perhaps she could kill some time in 'wonder square' on her own…

**-o0o-**

When Tifa reached the threshold that led to the lobby, she halted in utter bafflement. She had thought that, by now, everyone would be sleeping, except for Aerith and Cloud. Yet, Vincent Valentine, it seemed, could not sleep either.

_Or perhaps he 'can't'?_

The barmaid shamelessly stared at his serene, sitting figure. A map of Golden Sauce had stolen his complete attention, and he studied it as attentively as one would study the plans for a building before constructing it. She must have been looking at him for about five full minutes when at last he spoke, making her half-leap in surprise; her heart beating fast.

"Can I help you?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of the map on his hands.

How had he known she was there when he hadn't even lifted his eyes off that paper? Had Hojo given him eyes on the back of his head?

"Um…I…," she was at a loss as to what to say to him.

"Yes?" he finally turned to look at her while lowering the map to his lap.

"I… can't sleep," she blurted, thinking that it wouldn't be a good thing to lie to him just in case he 'could' read minds.

"I see," he accepted and, as if he had lost interest in her, he went back to reading the map.

"What are you doing, Vincent?" Tifa strolled towards him and plopped on the red couch beside him unceremoniously. She must have sat too close to him, though, for she felt him tense uncomfortably in reaction. Worriedly, the female wondered whether to seat across him instead, but was unable to come up with a way to do it without her actions 'appearing' rude.

"..." Silence followed Tifa's question. She had almost given up on the fact that he would answer her when, quite suddenly, she heard his low and smooth baritone, "I have never been here before."

"What!" Tifa's eyes widened with shock. _He has never been here before?_ She was about to ask the reason when it suddenly hit her. He had been sleeping in a coffin for thirty years, so it was only natural that this would be his first time here.

"I have an idea!" she stated after a pregnant pause.

Vincent turned towards her and cocked a perfect eyebrow when Tifa jumped to her feet and moved to stand before him, towering him. A beautiful smile grew on her face as she leaned forward a little, as if she was about to tell him a secret.

"I will give you a tour!" she beamed, winking an eye at him roguishly.

Vincent, nonetheless, seemed to think about it for a moment with a grave demeanor. Part of him wanted to spend the night out looking around the place, while the other part wanted to be left alone with his misery. Thus, his guilt and his desire battled each other driving him to a difficult dilemma: should he go or stay?

As if Tifa had noticed his inner turmoil, he suddenly felt her hands taking hold of his human hand _and_ his golden claw, a thing which both intrigued and bewildered him. Then –with a force that belied her slim complexion- she pulled him up and, being too curious, the ex-Turnk offered no resistance.

"I forgot to tell you… I won't take no for an answer," she explained when he turned to look at her questioningly.

"…" There was a creepy pause, and Tifa seriously wondered if she had crossed the line by touching him, doing something she should never have done. Her hands were still clutching his and, when she realized this, she hastily let them go -let 'him' go.

"I am sorry, Vincent," she apologized softly. A bright blush crept to her cheeks and, for some reason, she felt incredibly stupid and hurt by his silence, more than she should be. Perhaps the fact that Cloud was with Aerith had something to do with her unnatural vulnerability?

"Alright," he replied, drowning her apology with his words.

Tifa's eyes jumped from the floor to his red eyes. _Has Vincent Valentine, former Turk, awoken vampire, mysterious warrior, just accepted my invitation?_

Vincent had agreed to Tifa's plan more for her sake than his. He had seen, after all, Cloud and Aerith leaving the hotel just before the brunette had appeared in the threshold. Thus, he guessed she must have seen them too, which was one of the reasons -perhaps even the 'only' reason- why she couldn't sleep.

Yet, there was another, more hidden, motive why he had decided to accompany her. The thing was, Tifa Lockhart was the only one, out of their mismatched group, that treated him equally, even after finding out about his uncanny transformations.

"Where do you want to go first?" she asked him with unhidden excitement, successfully breaking his train of thought.

Vincent spread the map in front of him and swept his gaze through the different colored squares, reading what each one contained. Tifa moved to stand beside him so that she, too, could admire the map.

"Where do you prefer to start?" he enquired, sparing a guarded, sidelong glance at her.

"You want me to choose?" her eyebrows rose in astonishment. _The alluring gunslinger, Vincent Valentine, is relinquishing control?_

"If you are going to give me a tour," he explained, "then you should be the one leading." With that, he folded the map and placed it inside the right pocket of his pants.

"A-alright," she approved, flashing him a smile that made him feel as though he had been rewarded for doing something extremely good. "How about we start in the 'battle square', then?"

"As you wish," he said, signaling for her to go ahead. When she started moving, the ex-Turnk followed her closely and silently, like a blood-clothed shadow.

**-o0o-**

The battle arena was full of people waiting for a tournament to being. It almost seemed to them that there were more people in the waiting area than entering the contests.

Tifa moved to read a poster, which had caught her eye the second they had stepped out of the tunnel. It was huge and was hanging on every wall, brilliant colors dazzling all who saw it. Vincent followed her and read the announcement over her shoulder.

"They are holding a special tournament," Tifa muttered as she continued reading. "Wow! Look at one of the prizes! It's beautiful."

Vincent followed Tifa's finger and regarded the beautiful silver bracelet -incrusted with a good number of rubies- that stood inside a glass cage on the table near them. The bracelet, though simple, was quite beautiful, indeed.

_So… this is one of the many prizes the victorious would receive in this, seemingly, special tournament?_ The male returned his focus to the poster, quickly studying the rules and requisites with newfound interest.

The barmaid heaved a soft sigh before she turned around to face him.

"Do you want it, Tifa?" he asked her suddenly, surprising even himself with his question. _Since when did I start to care about what other people like?_

"I do," she confessed, "but I don't think I can win it, though."

She turned to the poster again and scanned the list of monsters she would have to fight to get it. There were about fifteen monsters that had to be fought; their levels ranging from 50 to the last one which had a level of 78 and, consequently, way out of her league.

"Anyways, let's go somewhere else. It seems that there will be no other battles held at the moment, apart from those who enter the tournament," Tifa spun around just in time to see Vincent paying the fee and jotting his name down on the participant's list -his script as beautiful and elegant as him. There were only two other names there and those two men had already lost by then.

"Vincent Valentine," she sprinted towards him, the beginning of panic kissing her voice. "What do you think you are doing?"

"You said you want the bracelet," he said nonchalantly.

Before the –now pale- female could say something else, he was asked to follow a lady down a corridor towards the arena below. Giving a curt nod to the gapping Tifa, he left. Somehow, he felt 'compelled' to give the martial artist that desired piece of jewelry at all costs. And, deep down, he knew he would do just that…

"Darn it," Tifa cursed and approached the glass structure that stood in the middle of the waiting room. Behind it -and a floor below- stood the red-caped figure of Vincent, who was preparing his weapon with such calmness that none of those who were watching could believe it.

"Do you think he'll win, honey?" Tifa heard a woman asking a man who was smoking a cigarette beside her.

"I don't know," answered the man truthfully, "so far, none had gone further than the sixth monster."

Tifa Lockhart felt her heartbeats accelerating as her mind took in the information. _Would Vincent be alright?_ She wondered nervously, and prayed with all her heart he would walk out unharmed.

"Holy… please be alright, Vince," she mumbled as –with a creaking sound that sent chills down her spine- the gate opened and a monster strolled inside.

The first battle began with Vincent taking out the monster in seconds. The second, third and fourth battles took him only minutes. The fifth and sixth battles seemed to give him a bit of problems, but he finished them with minor injuries. For the seventh and eight battles, Vincent recurred to magic to finish off the monsters in order to do it quickly.

Soon, every spectator was cheering or shaking their heads in a mixture of unbelief and excitement. A big crowd had, by then, gathered around to watch the mysterious, red caped warrior fight with awe and envy. When Vincent was fighting his ninth battle, however, Tifa was distracted by someone who, somehow, she had feared to bump into.

"Tifa?" Cloud's voice reached her ears as she spun around, wide eyed, to face a puzzled looking Cloud and a smiling Aerith. "What are you doing here?"

For a moment Tifa's mind went disastrously blank. _What are THEY doing here?_

"I am waiting for Vincent," she meekly explained as one hand took hold of her other arm in her usual gesture of insecurity.

"Vincent? You mean Vincent Valentine?" asked Aerith, not caring to hide the unbelief draping her voice.

Tifa only nodded in response, feeling a bit angry by what was implied by her tone. _What? Am I not beautiful or cool enough to hang out with Vincent? …Or any attractive man at all?_

"Come on, Tifa," Cloud didn't believe her either, "what are you 'really' doing here?"

"I just told you," she snapped, now not only angry but also hurt, "I am waiting for Vincent!"

"But Vincent would never wander through a place like 'this'… at least not willingly," stated Aerith in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone.

"Why don't you come with us?" offered Cloud amiably. "That way you won't be alone."

Tifa scowled and Aerith's eyes widened in shock at the mere idea of their date being ruined by such unwelcome a guest.

A loud cheer interrupted their conversation and Tifa was glad for it. She spun around immediately when she realized that they could only be cheering for Vincent. With mixed feelings, the barmaid peeped into the arena only to find… it was already empty!

_Did Vincent win? Did he loose? Is he okay? Where the heck is he, damn it?_

Cloud was asking her something but she ignored him as her eyes kept roaming the empty ground, wondering what the heck had occurred.

"Excuse me," she asked the couple beside her, "What happen to the man down there?"

"What! You didn't watch?" asked the woman surprised.

"I-I got distracted," replied Tifa apologetically, a faint blush on her cheeks.

Just as the woman was about to answer, though, she heard him.

"Tifa," she turned to face the figure of Vincent. There was a superficial wound on his cheek -which was weeping blood- and a more serious wound on his left arm (just above the crook of his elbow), which was also bleeding.

"Vincent! Are you alright?" she asked, casting a cure spell on his arm to stop the bleeding, while Cloud and Aerith waited for someone to explain to them what was happening.

"Here," Vincent handed Tifa the bracelet she'd eyed earlier just as a man -wearing an expensive, navy blue suit- joined them. Cradled reverently on his arms were a trophy and a thick, golden belt.

"You forgot your other prizes!" he exclaimed as he stood beside the stoic Vincent, who had shown no interest in any other object apart from the bracelet.

"I told you I'm not interested in them," he stated laconically, giving the man a quick and rather uninterested glance.

"B-but," the man seemed confused, for they were twice and thrice as valuable as the bracelet, "you earned them!"

Tifa's heart was beating rapidly and she was emotionally shaken. _He went through all that trouble only to win the bracelet for me? _She slipped it on and looked at it lovingly for it had grown to be much more valuable because 'he', Vincent Valentine, had given it to her.

"Do you happen to have a first-aid kit?" she asked the navy clothed man when she finally regained her scattered wits.

"What?" he turned towards her in crystal puzzlement. These people where not making any sense!

She pointed towards Vincent's red cheek when she met his eyes.

"Oh, right," the man understood, "follow me, please."

They did.

**-o0o-**

"Sit down, Vincent," Tifa slapped the seat next to her twice after the battle-arena's manager had politely handed her a small, first-aid, white box. Vincent did as told without making a big fuzz about it, surprising, with that action, even himself.

Satisfied, the humming female took out a piece of cotton and soaked it on a disinfectant liquid in order to clean the cut first. Vincent watched her do it with a poker face that made her wonder just what sorts of thoughts the enigmatic male was entertaining.

"Unbutton your collar," she ordered.

Vincent did as told but, before she could proceed, he remarked, "I can do that."

"I know you can," she said playfully, "You are a very capable man…"

Vincent frowned slightly and then quirk an eyebrow. "But…" he said, prompting her to continue.

"But this is the least I could do," she finished, leaning forward and rubbing the cotton, gently, on his cheek. If it ached, nobody would be able to tell since Vincent's face was kept carefully void of expressions.

"So… what are you two doing, Vincent?" asked Cloud with increasing curiosity.

Tifa flinched slightly and Vincent felt her slim frame tensing.

_What is he going to answer?_ she wondered with cold fear. _Is he going to tell them that I practically forced him to come with me?_

Vincent's red eyes locked with Cloud's blue ones. "I asked Tifa to show me around," he stated casually, as though it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

The martial artist froze for a second before –feeling much more relaxed- she continued with her task. She took a band-aid out of the box, a wide grin on her face, and stuck it on Vincent's cheek.

Tifa was learning so many things about the gunslinger, and the more she learned the more she liked him! He was not only polite and elegant but he was, below all his seriousness, very 'nice' to her. Setting the box on a table near her, the fighter took, instead, a bowl with water and a white towel. She soaked it on the warm liquid.

"Could you lift your shirt cuff, please?" she asked, pointing at the spot -just above the crook of his right elbow- where his shirt was torn.

"…" Vincent did not move for a while and then, with a sigh, he undid the first five buttons of his black shirt.

He then slipped his whole arm out the collar of his shirt, knowing he could not lift his cuff enough to let Tifa clean the blood off his skin. Still, the gunslinger was careful to use his red cape to hide, as much as possible, the scarred skin of his pale chest.

There was a lot of blood covering his arm, more than expected actually. The flow had been such, that it had run down his elbow and, subsequently, coated part of his inner forearm. As she studied it attentively, Tifa found herself wondering if the wound had been as painful as it looked, for even before she had cast her cure spell, Vincent had given no indication of being even slightly uncomfortable.

With an inward shrug, the martial artist shook her head and proceeded in cleaning his arm in utter silence. She noticed that Vincent began to relax little by little as she softly rubbed his smooth skin clean. The poor man had been as tensed as a bow when she had touched his naked skin, but apparently he had gotten used to her thought alone made her smile and feel almost a little giddy.

"So, Vincent," Aerith was intent on breaking the silence, "You've never been here before, huh?"

"All done," interrupted Tifa, not liking the tone the woman had used to phrase her inane question.

The gunslinger turned towards Tifa and thanked her before putting his shirt back in place and closing it. Once clothed, he addressed the last remaining Cetra. "I had been locked inside a coffin for almost thirty years," he reminded coolly.

Aerith's green eyes widened and her jaw seemed to sag open. How had she forgotten?

"Well, this is a fun place," piped in Cloud in an attempt to lighten the mood, "I am sure you'll like it."

Vincent gave a curt nod, "I like what I've seen so far."

Standing up, the ex-Turk politely offered his hand to Tifa (against all his silent laws of 'no human contact'). Though surprised by the unusual action, she accepted it with blushed cheeks.

"What is our next destination?" he enquired politely.

Tifa smiled, "Wonder square."

Vincent seemed to approve and he followed her out the door with Cloud and Aerith, for some reason, on tow.

**-o0o-**

When they reached their destination, Vincent was impressed to see such a variety of both, games and people. It was crowded inside and, at first, he felt uncomfortable to have so many unknown people violating his personal space. His senses sharpened, as if he was going into battle, yet he couldn't help but relax a bit when he saw Tifa worriedly glancing at him over her shoulder.

For some unfathomable reason, he felt comfortable with her _and_ her 'touch'. In fact, it came to a point where part of him no longer wished to shun from her contact, which was one of the reasons why he had offered to help her to her feet back at the battle square.

"Are you alright?" she asked, but Vincent could hardly hear her with the noise. Hence he, mechanically, leaned forward tilting his head a bit sideways so that she could yell in his ear.

She did, repeating her question. Her lips, however, brushed the sensitive shell of his ear. His innate senses kicked in –regarding this as he would a dangerous situation—and promptly backed away on pure, raw impulse.

"I am fine," he responded straightening up and cursing his reflexes. _Did she notice my abrupt movement?_

Tifa, pretending she hadn't noticed his awkward reaction to the episode, smiled at him and pointed towards the back of the room, where it was less crowded. Vincent gave her a curt nod and followed her.

"Do you know how to ride a bike, Vincent?" she asked as they reached a game titled 'G-Bike', where two identical bikes stood in front of a screen.

To Tifa's sudden annoyance, she noticed a group of girls checking Vincent out. The former barmaid pretty soon found herself wishing she was fighting them in battle square. Immediately after that thought, though, she chided herself. _Can I really blame them? _

Sure, Vincent was not handsome as Cloud. Rather, the gunslinger would be better described as 'alluringly beautiful'. His elegant poise, marbled skin, crimson eyes, silky long hair and low voice… they were a fabulous combination that would enthrall any human –male or female.

And just after that thought had formed in her head, she found herself beginning to feel how luck 'she' was. Vincent, she knew, could have any girl in the room -even those that clutched their boyfriend's arms while surveying her companion shamelessly- and yet he was with 'her'!

_Not in a romantic way, though_, she reminded herself and this seemed to wipe out the smile that had played on her lips.

Vincent frowned as he saw the slight change Tifa's demeanor had undergone and wondered if his silence had caused it. As he pondered upon this, he felt a sudden urge to bring back the cheerfulness that only, seconds ago, he had studied with satisfaction and awe.

"Yes," he answered remembering her question.

His voice made Tifa's eyes jump back to him in alertness, her daydream blown away. Tilting her head, the fighter wondered –not without embarrassment- if the man had read her thoughts.

The former Turk, not certain what to make of her expression, cocked an eyebrow. Pointing at the bikes, he elaborated, "I know how to ride." Yes. The male had learned to ride a motorcycle when he had undergone his Turk training. Still, it had been a long time since he had last used one and he wondered if the knowledge could come back to him.

Well –it matter not- the gunslinger was willing to give it a try, 'especially' because Tifa seemed to be waiting for him to do so. A crowd quickly gathered up around them as Tifa raced in one bike while Vincent raced in the other, both oblivious to everyone but the presence of each other.

Cloud and Aerith -who had been standing some paces behind from them- witnessed as Vincent broke all the records –the swordsman's included. Tifa was not bad and came in third, just below Cloud and Vincent's records.

As the gunslinger howled his lithe body off the bike, he noticed the machine returning 10 Gil to him and turned to Tifa questioningly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, "You won! You were awesome, Vincent!"

Vincent smirked behind his collar. "They pay you for playing?" he said as he eyed the coins intriguingly, "What was I doing with the Turks when I could have made a fortune here."

Tifa laughed at that and Vincent found himself enjoying the joyous sound. Absently, he wondered when was the last time he had heard her laugh so freely. When he could not remember, he felt the smug satisfaction of knowing that it had been 'him' who brought the change.

"Come on, let's try this one," she pushed her way towards the snowboarding machine while Vincent follow closely behind. By then, Cloud and Aerith had desisted on following them and decided to return to their 'own' date. In the snowboard game, Tifa beat the records coming in first and not even Vincent could best her.

"You did good," he commended as they moved towards the 'slam dum'.

The solemn gunslinger, however, did not even try it. When asked, the elegant male had simply responded that he had never been fond of a game where all competitors struggled for 'one' ball. He even confessed that, when he had been with the Turks, he had given everyone a ball of their own hoping that would end their persistence in urging him to partake in their games.

Again, to Vincent's pleasure, she laughed melodically and, after having played other various games, they finally left the section.

"Let's see if they are holding a play at the 'event square'," she said, jumping in the pipe that would return them to the 'lobby' before her companion could answer.

With a smirk, Vincent Valentine was quick to follow her lead. As soon as they reached the 'lobby' a staff member announced, "Tonight's Enchantment Night! All the attractions are free."

Tifa turned to Vincent with a smile that brightened her entire face, "We are so lucky!"

Having seen the brunette's broad smile, one of the staff members called the pair over, "How 'bout it you two? There's going to be an entertaining show in the event square!"

Tifa clapped her hands girlishly at the news.

"This is great, Vincent," excitedly, the woman took his hand and pulled him towards the duct that wound get them to said square, "Come on!"

The deadly gunslinger allowed himself to be guided almost meekly by his companion, wondering what they would see next. It had been long since he had last seen a show after all, and he wouldn't mind at all sitting beside Tifa. More so since his comfort around her kept growing by the second, driving away from the forefront of his mind all thoughts of misery.

As soon as they entered the theater, though, all of Vincent's thoughts of spending a good time vanished and panic showed its ugly head when they heard a staff member addressing them."Congratulations!" he yelled happily, drawing all eyes to them, "You are our 100th couple today!" Ignoring Vincent's cold glare the man continued, "You two will be the leads in tonight's show!"

Vincent gave a step back, intent on getting out of there. But the man, as though sensing his thoughts, moved in order to intercept the door. Valentine frowned. No way he was going to step on the frigging stage! He knew that something was fishy when he had gotten money in 'wonder square' and now he understood why! He had been 'paid' to entertain others, when all he wanted was to distract Tifa!

"Move," the alluring male ordered coldly as he tried to get out, but the idiotic man stood his ground.

"Oh, now, it's not hard. Just play it however you want to and the rest of the cast will cover up for you," explained the employee, patting Vincent on the shoulder, apparently oblivious to the murderous aura cloaking his body.

Tifa only giggled at this, feeling slightly sorry for the gunslinger yet, nevertheless, feeling excited at the prospect of what they would be doing. _Does Valentine know how to act? _

"Come this way," the man said as he lead the way with Tifa trailing behind him and, almost dragging, an uncomfortable Vincent with her.

"Wait, Tifa," he began, but the beautiful brunette promptly interrupted.

"It sounds like fun!" she turned towards him and taunted, "I thought there was nothing the great Valentine could not do. It shouldn't be harder than what you did in the battle square."

Vincent raised an eyebrow and replied smoothly, "Is that a challenge, Lockhart?"

She smiled, "It is."

**-o0o-**

As soon as they were behind the stage, to Vincent's utter annoyance, Tifa was taken away. Then, a man had the audacity to ask him to remove his cloak and to wear an odd and funny looking 'armor' instead -a thing which Vincent had immediately refused, daring the man to try and take his cloak off while he caressed the weapon at his side.

"F-fine then," the man had yielded, "At least use the sword."

The former Turk arched a perfect eyebrow. Why the heck would he want to use a sword when his 'death penalty' was much more effective? A single bullet would do in a second what a sword would take him minutes, if not more.

That on his mind, he shook his head and crossed his arms earning an audible sigh from the crestfallen employee. "Alright then," the staff member yielded as his eyes encountered Vincent's golden claw, "you can always use the claw for dramatic purposes!"

Before Vincent could say something else, he heard the music that announced the beginning of the show and a look of true terror flashed through his eyes as he heard the tale begin.

"Long, long ago…," said the narrator, "an evil shadow appeared over the peaceful kingdom of Galdia… Princess Rosa was just kidnapped by the Evil Dragon King, Valvados. What will become of her?"

There was a pause and Vincent felt his heart accelerating in nervousness. He had never been a public figure and as such dislike the thought of multiple people staring at him. When he had been working with the Turks he had always chosen the assignments that required stealth and concealment -a sniper on a roof, the bodyguard at the background, etc.

Yet now… now he would be the 'center' of attention and he liked it not one bit. To increase his annoyance he could hear the sniggering noises of Chaos, who had awoken when he had felt Vincent's emotional response to his situation.

Then the narrator spoke, breaking the gunslinger's chain of curses, "Just then, the legendary hero, Alfred, appears!"

Vincent waited for something to happen when quite suddenly, and unexpectedly, he felt someone pushing him onto the stage. He cursed inwardly, but presented an impassive face as he strolled with all his elegant dignity towards the center of the stage just as a funny looking 'knight' spun like a ballerina towards him. Of course Vincent was tempted to leave the stage when he saw the queer man.

"Oh… You must be the legendary hero… Alfred!" the knight said.

Vincent crossed his arms and looked at him coolly before responding stoically, "I would think I am since I was pushed into the stage when narrator spoke of him."

The Knight's face filled with dismay but, hearing the crowd laughing at this, he decided to continue as though it had been planned, "I knew it in my soul! Please… please save Princess Rosa!" The knight knelt and bowed his bobbing head, "Now… please talk…. to the King….!"

The Knight moved to the back of the stage as another figure spun inside wearing a blue cloak and a golden crown above his blond hair. Vincent figured he was the King and slowly made his way towards the man, already giving up on the thought that he could 'sneak' out -especially considering he had the spot light all to himself.

"Oh, legendary hero, Alfred. You have come to save my beloved Rosa…" the King said while moving his head, in Vincent's humble opinion, too dramatically. "On the peak of a dangerous mountain… dwells the Evil Dragon King, Valvados… who's kidnapped Princess Rosa…" Vincent tilted his head slightly amused by the man's performance. "But… you can't beat the Dragon King now! Talk to one who can help you…," instructed the King and just then a wizard made his way to stand beside the knight.

The fomer-Turk frowned and shrugged. He might as well talk to the wizard since spells could be much more effective than the odd looking night who, to him, was simply too skinny to help.

"I am the great wizard, Vorman," he announced, "What do you wish to know?"

The dark haired male tilted his head when he heard the man offering two choices in a whisper. _What the hell!_

"The Dragon's weakness?" he offered, pretty sure that the princess measurements would not help him in this 'quest' and knowing that asking how to get out would not earn him an answer.

The Wizard smiled, "Ahh, the weakness of the Evil Dragon King. It must be, it must be…" he paused, closing his eyes as though to see the weakness being presented on his mind. "Yes!" he suddenly exclaimed, "It must be… True love!"

Valentine frown slightly amused, "Excuse me?" How the heck was that supposed to help him! Was he supposed to hug the Dragon to death? Because he was not about to hug someone in a stupid custom, least of all a man!

"The power of love…," continued the Wizard opening his arms and holding them high -Vincent seriously hoped the man would not try to hug him, otherwise he was sure he would crush his windpipe. "…is the only weapon that can withstand the fangs of the Evil Dragon King…!"

The narrator then took the reins, "Oh what is going to happen next…! Oh… legendary hero… look!"

Right then a man in a -not frightful at all- Dragon costume made his way to the stage holding in his arms the figure of Tifa. The latter who, to the surprise of Vincent, wore a beautiful baby blue dress that was tight only on her bosom, princess-cut.

"Gaaaaah!" the Dragon exclaimed which the confused gunslinger supposed was his way of… roaring? Tifa, meanwhile, sat on the floor by the devil's feet acting as though she was tired and scared. Vincent smiled at her natural performance for, even if for a second, he'd actually believed her.

"I am the Evil Dragon King, Valvados," said the newcomer, "I have not harmed the Princess… I have been expecting…," he raised a finger and pointed it at the ex-Turk laughing like a maniac, "you!"

Tifa willed her voice to shake with hope and terror, "Please help me…," her eyes locked with his and she blushed against her efforts, "legendary hero!"

Then turning slightly towards the dragon she whispered, "Like that?" which earned a slight chuckle from the, always serious looking, Vincent Valentine. _She can be so cute sometimes,_ he mused before he could stop himself.

The man nodded slightly at Tifa before returning to his paper, "Gaaaaah! Here I come, Legendary Hero… Alfred! I already know… your name!"

Vincent raised a perfect eyebrow. What did that had to do with anything? Was he supposed to tremble at that? His name wasn't even Alfred to begin with! This play was so inanely weird…

The Wizard interrupted Vincent's train of thought, "And now… Legendary hero…," (why couldn't they just call him hero or Alfred instead of using all the 'legendary hero Alfred' all the time?), "here is what will happen to your beloved…."

Vincent turned to the Wizard questioningly and immediately froze when the man finished his speech. "A kiss! The power of true love!" the wizard exclaimed.

Vincent cursed, feeling all eyes upon him. He hadn't even considered this and now, though part of him was curious, the other was yelling at him to escape the situation ASAP. Yet, against all his screaming thoughts, all his internal alarms, he stayed.

_Well if I am to kiss someone, it surely will not be any of the men here_, he thought as his eyes rested on Tifa, whose blush was now deep crimson.

Tifa gulped when she felt his deep, luminescent gaze on her. She had not even thought this possible! Her mouth was immediately dry and she wondered if Vincent would do it…but, above everything, she feared he would not…

The deadly gunslinger strolled towards her and, offering a hand, helped her up. Then, he, hesitating for only a second, he brought her hand up and, smelling her sweet perfume, he brushed his lips to the back of her palm softly and gently.

The single touch of his lips and the breath that consequently escaped him, caressing her hypersensitive skin, sent waves of warmth tingling throughout her body -though she was a bit disappointed he had decided to kiss her hand instead of...

Tifa shook her head as her thoughts trailed off into dangerous territory. Looking down at him with eyes soft and filled with something Vincent could not quite place -or perhaps he was too fearful to?- she said, "Vincent… I mean," she smiled, "Alfread… you saved me."

Before she could say something else the Dragon King interrupted them with a yell, "Curses… the power of love!"

The man was pulled up with a rope and disappeared out of the stage while the King took the spotlight, "Oh… look! Love has triumphed! Now," he swept them all with his eyes, "let's celebrate!"

That said they all spun out of the stage leaving Vincent and Tifa looking at each other at a complete loss.

"I think we should leave too," she whispered.

"I am not dancing out," he warned when a mischievous look seemed to cross Tifa's eyes.

"Then how do you suggest we go out?" she asked truly curious. "After all… this is a play…"

Tifa gave a step backwards when she saw, to her utter amazement, a mischievous glint sparkling in Vincent's eyes and again she blushed. Before she could ask what was on his mind he had, elegantly, swept her off her feet. He cradled her slim body in his powerful arms, before he strolled out of the stage hiding his own surprise at his bold move.

Once they left, the narrator spoke. "Oh, how profound the power of love…," he sighed, having been truly touched by the scene before continuing. "And so the legendary hero Alfred and Princess Rosa lived in our story happily ever after…"

A huge cheer went up; the audience whistling and standing in ovation at the beautiful show they had witnessed. Of coursed by then, Tifa having changed into her attire, Vincent had pulled her out through a back entrance he had found when thoughts of escaping had assaulted his mind.

The brunette smiled at him. "That wasn't so bad now, was it?" she said as they made their way towards the hotel.

Vincent allowed himself a crooked smile that completely disarmed her and left her with a blush. He smiled even more, satisfied at the effect he had on her as he pondered her question. _Well it's true. It wasn't as bad as I thought. Plus, the last scene was worth all my troubles… _

They entered the hotel in silence, walking stealthily around the hall as to not wake their companions up. Tifa noticed Vincent was still holding her hand but she made no move to retrieve it, wondering if the man had realized it too.

Finally they reached her room and it was then she felt him letting go of her hand, a thing she quickly found herself missing. Tifa smiled and opened the door to her room, an awkward silence descending upon them as she turned to him, standing in the threshold with her hands on her back in her nervous stand. Her wine, big eyes lowered to stare intently at the gap between their feet.

When she refocused her attention on him, she found him looking sideways at a stranger who was walking down the corridor in search, it seemed, of his own room. The blushing female bit her lower lip, feeling the urge to kiss him and being unable to fight it. So, renouncing to all her self control and the voice of reason that heed her to think about the consequences, she leaned forward intent on giving him a chaste and quick peck on the cheek.

Yet, the gunslinger had seen her movement through the corner of his eyes and, wondering what she was up to, he had moved his face towards her and… he felt her warm lips upon his own!

His eyes widened while hers closed and, though he knew he was a monster that did not deserve happiness, he let himself be enwrapped by her warmth, drowned by her overwhelming presence. Instinctively, he pulled her towards him so that her body molded against his, her chest pressed against his –hearts beating rhythmically to the same tune.

His soft lips pushed hers open so that he could taste her with a deeper kiss of newfound passion. He found his senses sharpening, trying to wrap her up in the cocoon of his presence in a possessive way that roared in its primal state. He scented her, the aroma of her body intoxicating him, inebriating him like the most potent of alcohols. Even the monsters residing within him fell into a trance of relaxation and humming pleasure.

The former Turk was simply trying to take her all in, realizing with sudden lucidness that he could keep the attraction he felt towards her no longer at bay. And, most importantly, not wanting to…

His hands closed on her waist as he felt her hands clasping around his neck, her fingers combing through the silky locks of his dark hair. Her curvaceous body clung to him as the kiss intensified and sparked the flame of passion. A passion that, they both knew with utter certainty, would thenceforward grow.

They parted for much needed oxygen, both panting as they held their embrace.

Tifa opened her eyes, uncertainty swirling inside the wine of her orbs. He knew why she was looking at him like that, she was most probably wondering if she had crossed the line. How strange…

Before she could further worry over him, the pretty female felt his lips brushing her jaw and caressing her neck… her throat.

She let a low moan escape her slightly parted lips. Her mended heart was hammering hard against her ribcage. The warmth produced by Vincent's mere presence threatened to overwhelm her, leaving her lightheaded as sweat broke on her forehead. The passion she felt in him fascinated her like nothing ever had and nothing ever would.

Yet, as if realizing what he was doing, he stopped and moved back slowly -his breath short and quick. And it was then that all the consequences, all the questions and the doubts rained upon them. They separated, retrieving their touch at the same time and looking at different directions with unwelcomed awkwardness.

What would this mean? How would this change them?

_Can she love a demon? _He wondered and he seriously hoped she could.

"I…" she sighed looking at her feet, not knowing what to say without fear of pushing him away. She wanted nothing more than to invite him in… to feel his lips upon her body and his fingers discovering her skin…

Vincent turned to her then and he smiled disarmingly again. He had sensed her fear and decided to take the matter on his own hands. "I had a good time," he confided, taking her chin in his human hand and tilting her head up so that she would look at him. "I really had a good time, Tifa Lockhart."

Her smile widened, "I too had a great time, Vincent Valentine."

Vincent took her hand and kissed it like he had done back at the event square, knowing that the scent of her perfume would haunt him tonight.

"Let's do this again… sometime," he said, deciding not to include the 'soon' part more for his sake than hers. He wanted to give her time to set her mind… to decide if this –'he' was who she really wanted.

She smiled and brushed a black bang out of his eyes, "It's a date."

With that, Vincent left her alone with her new thoughts. Who could have thought the day that had stated so horrible would turn out to be the best of her life? Who would have thought that she would finally find love in someone that was not Cloud…

"Holy…," she mumbled, remembering his lips and knowing she would have to take a cold shower now, "he really knows how to kiss…"

**-FINIS-**

**Story Written by: Giselle González**

© Final Fantasy VII is Property of Square Enix.

* * *

**:…:Other Final Fantasy Stories:...:**

+-+**Cell Phone Quest**+-+

A _Final Fantasy VII_ . What started as a favor ended up becoming a crazy quest to buy a cell phone. ::Vincent x Tifa:: Other characters: Cid, Barret, Yuffie, Reno and Reeve. Post AC.


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